


Fanboy seeks Fanboy

by darter_blue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, International Fanworks Day 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:42:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9884051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darter_blue/pseuds/darter_blue
Summary: Castiel sneaks out of his sister's wedding for a drink at the bar, only to find a very welcome distraction waiting for him there... in the form of one Dean Winchester.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, so sorry in advance for any newbie type errors... I wrote it for International Fanworks Day and then missed it by a week, and posted it anyways.

The entrées haven’t even been served and Castiel is so uncomfortable he has to escape and find somewhere to catch his breath.

It’s not that he has anything against weddings in particular, but this one is so full of love and joy that it’s making his head hurt (and maybe his heart ache just a little, let’s be honest). So he squeezes through the front doors of the reception while the other guests are mingling and being sociable and as soon as they close behind him, his shoulders relax, the weight unfurls, and it’s heavenly.

Except now he looks so lame just standing outside the big fancy room alone, thumbs twiddling, that he decides it might be best to head down to the hotel bar and drown his sorrows (social awkwardness and crippling desperation) in overpriced and underwhelming gin.

 

It’s not until he’s seated at the bar with a gin, lime and soda in his hands that he notices the man two stools down. His breath hitches at the sight of him - lean and tanned with dirty blonde hair and bright green eyes (so bright, so green) - and of course, because Castiel is Castiel, the ice he is sucking on gets caught in his throat and he coughs and splutters to dislodge it, looking like an absolute prat in the process. The universe can be so cruel.

‘You okay, man?’ asks the concerned voice of the man two stools down.

‘Yes, thank you, I just… the ice was… unexpected.’ Cas replies, and the responding chuckle from this beautiful stranger is warm and friendly, easing some of the tension that has crept back into his shoulders.

‘Down the wrong hole, huh?’

‘You could say that, yes.’ Cas says, turning his body fractionally so that it faces towards the man, which for Castiel is as close to outright flirting as it gets. But he must be buoyed by the alcohol - it was pretty free flowing upstairs - because the next words out of his mouth are ‘Dean, is it?’ and he immediately regrets it when he gets a confused stare in reply.

‘Do I know you?’

‘Uh no you have-’ Castiel points to Dean’s name tag, still front and centre over his left breast pocket, ‘-and I just assumed.’

Dean looks down in the direction of Cas’s gaze and spots the offending article. ‘Shit!’ He covers it with his hand and starts to take it off quickly. ‘Crap, I totally forgot I was wearing this. That’s so embarrassing,’ he sighs, face-palming his forehead into his hand, ‘I’ve been walking around with this on all afternoon.’

Castiel smiles at Dean’s sudden sheepishness. ‘It could be worse,’ he placates.

‘Yeah? How’s that?’

‘I once had a “kick me” sign stuck to my back for days.’

‘Days?’

‘Well, in reality it was more like hours, but it felt like days.’ Dean laughs and looks relieved to have had his embarrassment neatly quashed. Cas is disappointed when he throws back the last mouthful of whisky and stands.

‘It was nice to meet you…?’ Dean lets that last word hang as if in question, and raises an eyebrow. It takes Cas a few seconds more than would be considered smooth to realise Dean is asking for his name.

‘Castiel!’ He finally says, probably with a touch too much enthusiasm, but Dean just smiles and shakes his hand.

‘Castiel. Nice to meet you.’

‘Yes, likewise!’ Cas grins, disappointment momentarily forgotten as he slides his fingers along Dean’s palm when their hands separate, allowing the warmth there to linger as long as possible.

‘See you round, maybe.’ Dean waves behind him as he walks away and Cas stares wistfully at the gorgeous man he has literally just let slip through his fingers.

He signals the bartender for another drink and gulps down the one in front of him, careful to leave the rest of the ice in the glass. Which is lucky, because suddenly a hand falls on his shoulder and a pair of magnificent green eyes framed by dark lashes and cheekbones that could cut glass are staring into his with panic, or excitement. Cas can’t tell which. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!’ Dean frantically whispers as his eyes flicker back and forth between Cas and something behind him.

‘What is it?’ Cas asks with alarm, trying to look past Dean to see what could be the matter.

‘Don’t look!’ Dean throws his palm up to Cas’ cheek and turns his face squarely back to him. ‘Don’t look,’ he says again, ‘but Lady Stark and John Sheppard are over there having drinks with George R.R. Martin!’

‘Do you mean, as in, the actors? Joe Flannigan and-' Castiel thinks for a second as Caitlin's name is on the tip of his tongue, oh right, '-Michelle Fairley?’

‘Yes I do!’ Dean almost shouts, pleased as he is that Castiel knows who these people are and therefore likely doesn’t think he’s crazy.

‘They must be here for the convention this weekend.’ Cas thinks out loud. ‘Maybe we should go say hello?’

‘No! Jesus Cas, we’ll look like idiots.’ Dean shakes his head and Castiel smiles at the familiarity with which his new friend says his name. ‘No, we should try to be more subtle.’ He thinks for a moment and looks back at Cas with a grimace. ‘How could we be more subtle?’

‘Um, subtle is not really my specialty.’ Cas says apologetically.

‘Never mind,’ Dean says, dragging Cas off his stool by the elbow towards the famous people he’s not supposed to be looking at. ‘We’ll just wing it.’

‘Maybe we should tell him he should be home writing. I mean, I’m all for down time, but that man’s next book is woefully overdue.’

‘Theoretically I agree with you, Cas, but you can’t just walk up to George R.R. Martin and tell him that.’ As they get closer to the lounge area, Cas can see the celebrities drinking together at a comfy coffee table, being ignored by other patrons for the most part. He looks around furtively to see if he can recognise any other faces and thinks he sees Alan Tudyk chatting with a reasonably attractive young woman.

‘Dean!’ he whispers into his ear forcefully, getting uncomfortably (or comfortably, depending on your prerogative) close to Dean’s body to do so, ‘that’s Wash!’

‘Holy Shit!’ he looks back at Castiel and their noses are practically touching, ‘what are they all doing here?’

Cas is finding it hard to form words, what with the heat churning its way up into his ribcage, but manages to whisper back that it makes sense for them to all be staying in the Hilton if they’re taking part in the _Supernova_ convention tomorrow.

Dean nods his agreement and snakes his arm around Cas's’ waist to surreptitiously peek behind him at the table of _Game of Thrones_ personalities. The electricity such a touch sparks in Cas causes him to lose balance and reach out to his left for purchase. Unfortunately he finds nothing to gain purchase from and then overcorrects, stumbling slightly into the table of said personalities and knocking Joe Flannigan’s Beer over and almost into his lap. He watches it happen in slow motion, paralysed and mortified.

He looks at the man who’s drink he just spilled and his face is angry, but not thunderously so. Then he looks back at Dean and the open mouthed, horrified shock is probably a mirror of his own expression.

‘I am _so sorry_!’ he exclaims, hands sort of flapping wildly in an attempt to fan away the offending beer. Joe holds his hands in a distinct ‘do not come any closer’ gesture and Dean rescues him by slipping in front of Cas and asking Joe what he’s drinking so that they can replace it immediately. Which they then escape to do, and as soon as they get back to the bar, Dean is laughing uncontrollably and trying to hide it by closing his teeth around his fist, a move that Castiel finds inconveniently sexy, as he’s working very hard to remain suitably contrite right now.

‘Dean I’m so sorry!’ Cas says, to a completely lost Dean, who cannot stop laughing. ‘Dean, this is not funny, this is awful!’ but he continues to guffaw into his hand, bending over now, in fits at Cas’s consternation. ‘Dean!’

It takes Dean a minute to compose himself and when he does he looks at Cas with something like adoration. ‘That is not what I had in mind when I said we would wing it.’ he finally says and orders a pint of the James Squire on tap.

‘It was an _accident!_ ’ Cas cries, ‘and now I’ve ruined it for you.’

‘Are you kidding?’ Dean cries back. ‘That was hilarious! I’m gonna be living off this anecdote for _years_!’ and finally his smile is infectious and Castiel relaxes back into a state of only partial anxiety. Cas insists on paying for the beer and Dean grabs it to take back to the table, clearly not trusting Castiel to carry it unscathed, and rightly so.

‘I’m usually much more graceful than this, I swear.’ Cas tells Dean, knowing he is making a terrible impression. Dean just smiles back, like he doesn’t really believe him. ‘A good anecdote huh?’ he says, trying to pep himself up, ‘well, I guess that’s something.’

‘Yeah, you’re something alright Cas,’ and the wink Dean gives him takes Castiels blush to his ears. ‘Can’t wait to tell everyone about the super hot guy I met in the bar who threw a drink at John Sheppard and then tried to take his pants off.’

‘I did _not_ try to take his pants off!’ Cas hisses, but a little flame has flickered to life in Castiel’s chest, spreading out into his limbs and settling in his fingertips. He’s not sure he’s ever been described in such a way before and it lights him up from the inside out.

‘Come on,’ Dean says with glee, pulling Cas by his lapels after dropping the beer back to Joe Flannigan with another round of heartfelt apologies (which he very kind-heartedly accepts), ‘let’s go see if we can knock Wash’s cocktail out of his hands!’

‘Dean!’ Cas is mockingly appalled, and follows with a spring in his step.

They spend the next hour or so chatting and laughing, nervously trying to start conversations with celebrities and for the most part failing miserably. But it’s all in good fun. Dean talks about the ‘boring as balls’ architectural conference his firm had forced him to attend, with colour and vivacity and Cas is enjoying himself more than he ever has in his life. Until a chill suddenly settles over him.

‘Oh no!’ He cries, bolting up out of his seat.

‘What?’ Dean asks worriedly, bolting right along with him.

‘My wedding!’

‘Your _what_?’ Dean’s raised eyebrows almost hit his hairline.

‘I mean, not _my_ wedding, my _sister’s_ wedding!’ but to that, Dean’s dumbfounded expression remains intact. ‘I snuck out for a break before…’

‘And then you what, _forgot_?’ incredulity rife in Dean’s tone.

‘Well,’ Cas is embarrassed. ‘Yes, actually. You’re sort of… mesmerising.’ Dean looks equal parts pleased and nervous about this confession. They stand together for a moment without quite knowing how to proceed.

‘Dude,’ Dean starts, ‘we better get back up there before it’s all over.’ And Castiel shines at the implications of that sentence.

‘We?’ he asks, looking up expectantly from under his lashes.

‘Yeah, I mean, what are friends for if not to help you face your siblings wrath.’ Dean shrugs noncommittally.

‘Oh, friends.’ Cas can’t keep the disappointment out of his voice.

‘Well, strangers, I guess, who’ve bonded over all things geek-tastic.’ Dean reaches out to brush some non existent lint off castiel’s shoulder.

‘Novak!’ Castiel blurts out suddenly. Dean is suitably confused. ‘Castiel Novak.’ He repeats and holds out his hand for Dean to shake.

‘Ah, Winchester. _Dean_ Winchester.’ Dean smirks and accepts Castiel’s offered hand, and this time they both allow their fingers to linger before pulling away. Cas knows Dean is teasing him for the awkwardness but the warmth in his eyes keeps the sting out of it.

‘Well, now we’re not strangers, Dean Winchester. Would you like to accompany me to my sister’s wedding?’ Castiel twists the ring on his middle finger - a nervous habit - and resists the urge to shuck his foot along the ground in anxious anticipation. ‘I can’t promise it will be a good first date,’ he says, looking at his watch, ‘I think we missed dinner, but we might catch the cake if we hurry.’

‘I’m in.’ Dean says with a smile that brightens his already beautiful face, his green eyes dancing in reflected light, and offers his hand to Castiel, this time to lace his fingers through Cas’s and lead him gently to the staircase in the lobby. ‘And just so you know, you’ll always have me at cake, Cas.’

‘Duly noted.’ Cas replies, his own smile huge and ridiculous as he allows himself to be lead back up to the balcony room where they’re holding the reception, no longer worried about being desperate and lonely, because he finally has a plus one for his sister’s wedding. And his plus one is glorious.


End file.
